For The Love of The Shop
by lonnii renae
Summary: Prompt #3 from Tumblr- "The motorcycle squealed past again and again in an endless loop. What were they thinking? It was midnight!" Fitz, the owner of a local shop has to deal with a late night noise issue. But in the process makes an ass out of himself. Oneshot for now. Possible plans for a multichapter story.


hiya! .so I had to bang this one out. I wrote at least chapters worth of Prof and Student at work today so look out for that update elater today. hope yall like this one. thinking about leaving it as a one shot. if yall really want a story give me ideas and we can make this a party! thanks for reading and its like 4:35am don't judge mistake. just pm me and ill fix them -Lonnii

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Fitz walks into his home, dropping his bags at the door. He would grab to sort them tomorrow. He was dead tired. Just as he was closing up the shop for the evening, a big client called needing an emergency fix. What started as an easy tow and fix job turned into seven hours of constant troubles. He would definitely bill Cyrus double for his time and frustration. And maybe suggest that he train his men to know when they can keep driving a truck and when they should definitely stop. One would think when a person heard metal hitting against metal, they would pull over and look under the hood. Oh no, this guy just kept driving. Needless to say, that engine was DOA and another would be needed in its place.

But that was then and this is now. He was at home and all he wants is a shower and bed. He glances at the clock-11:25pm. He figured he could be in bed and asleep by midnight if he moved his ass. A nice shower to wash off the sweat, dirt and grim of the day. Not to mention, his muscles were aching beyond belief. His mind flickered to his ex friends with benefits, Mellie. She may be annoying, self centered, pretentious, conniving, lying man eating elitist but she could give a decent massage. But damn her drama wasn't worth her…talents. Their time together was a constant yoyo like existence. When they were up, they were high. But when they were down, not even the dead was that deep in the ground.

The water flows down his back as he lathers his towel. He mentally goes over his very business schedule at the shop tomorrow. He had six cars to work on, not to mention payroll. He loves owning the shop but the office work was truly a drag. He sent a message for help from an employment agency he uses but they still had not found someone who could run the office without any assistance and help with the car work. He'd have to give them a call in the morning. He needed a guy who could do both. He didn't think he was asking for so much. When his mind came back to the present, the water had gone cold and he was shivering his balls off. He quickly dried off, slipping on a pair of loose fitting pajama pants before settling under the covers. Sweet sleep was his last thought before he quickly fell asleep.

 _Fitz was walking around the house making sure he had all the needed items for his trip. He checks his jacket for his wallet, keys and shades. He slips the shades on as he walks into the garage. The garage door rises, shining daylight on his baby, his beauty! The day paled in comparison to his motorcycle. He was taking the Harley today to the shop. He would leave it locked there while he was out of town. He starts it up and in a flash, he is gone. He cruises along feeling the wind blow through his hair as it blows away this troubles. Stopping at a red light, he is pulled out of his bubble by a revving engine. He glances over at another motorcycle riding in the next lane. The man revs a bit with a head tilt. Fitz raised an eyebrow at the motion. Was he wanting to race? He glanced at the path in front of them. It was pretty much a straight drive. No, hills, no hard turns. He guy revs his bike again a bit louder. Fitz looked forward revving his engine too. The guy rubs his hands together as a nod that he was ready. The light turns green with both men taking off. Fitz was leaning forward. He had every intention of smoking this guy. He glances at the guy to gloat a bit as he pulled ahead but the guy's body language was totally unbothered. Had Fitz misunderstood the revving engine? The man tosses his head back and takes off. The engine revving before leaving Fitz in his dust…literally. The motorcycle flew down the road as the guy held up the mid finger to Fitz over his shoulder. Motherfucker, Fitz muttered._

"…wanna show off my new lights. And check this out!" The engine revs as the person peels out. Fitz rolled over in the bed. The engine revs again as it passes his bedroom window. What? Fitz rolls over, slowly opening his eyes. Where…was he dreaming? He lays there a few moments trying to get his bearings. He mostly needed time to see if he was dreaming the revving motorcycle or if there was-The motorcycle approached and roared passed the window again. It faded into the distance. So he wasn't dreaming. He waited a few minutes. The person didn't return. Maybe they called it a night. But just as he was getting comfortable, wavering on the edge of awake and sleep, the motorcycle came back with a vengeance skidding to a stop. Jesus, let them call it a night! He thought once more. He just wanted sleep. But to his dismay, the motorcycle starts once again. Fitz frustratingly kicks the cover all over the bed, getting up. He stomps to his bedroom window. The motorcycle and the idiot riding it was currently doing donuts in the alleyway between his house and the house for sale next door. Poor people would never get that house sold with riff raff like this keep up shenanigans this late at night. The motorcycle squealed past again and again and again in an endless loop. What were they thinking? It was midnight!

He glanced toward a light, noticing a woman and a man standing on the side of the road filming the antics of how this idiot was keeping him awake. Fitz thought building his home outside the city would shield him from nuisances like such but obviously he was wrong. Apparently, these people headed out here thinking no one was out here. And because of that, they could do stupid stunts all night. Well, they had another thing coming. He slipped on some shoes, stomping outside. The two people were looking in the distance, waiting for asshole to come back. A few minutes passed before the motorcycle could be heard on its way back. It skidded to a stop beautifully as a puff of dust and smoke lightly floated in the air. The rider jumped off the bike giving high-fives. But before anything could be said between the three intruders, Fitz walked from the shadows.

"Do you have ANY idea what time it is? Do you even care? I'm laying in my bed, in a house that I paid for out in the middle of no where trying to sleep. But you, you three trespassers are keeping me up. You know, I could have called the cops. I should call them! But I'm going to do you all a favor. I won't call the police to come out here to throw you thugs in jail…if you leave right now." Fitz said in a huff.

The two bystanders turned towards the rider. The rider just stood there, not saying a word.

"What is he your leader or something?" Fitz answered walking closer. "Because I have no problem standing chest to chest with you boy. Well, chest to head. You may need a steeping stool to fight." Fitz standing three feet from the rider.

The rider slipped his helmet off, swinging a full head of dread locs. He picked his head up, squaring his shoulders revealing himself to be…a girl?...a woman to be more accurate. Fitz immediately took several steps back.

"5. Cool it big boy. You are a man, a very large man, easily twice my size. Imagine what the police and a judge would say if you beat me up."

"4. Chest to head? Come on! That's just mean and rude. It's not my fault I am height challenged. Do you know how tall I am? 4 foot 11 inches. I am one inch away from being a little person. Which means by federal law, I am one inch away from having a disability. Would you really beat up a person with a disability?

"3. Yes, I do know what time it is. Apparently, you do not. It's really 2am. You should maybe get glasses or fix your clocks.

"2. I am the leader of this merry band of misfits. Don't insult them or me. You won't like the outcome.

"And 1. We don't have to leave. Olivia Pope, your new neighbor." The leader finished with a smirk.

Fitz just stares at her, "2am?" he finally responds. Clearly she was mistaken. He had just laid down. "I'm pretty sure it's just after midnight." Fitz answered confused.

Olivia approached him as she retrieved her cell phone from her jacket pocket, "Sorry square. 2:23am."

"Even more of a reason why you should not be out her making a ruckus. You could be more courteous to your neighbors." Fitz answered a bit annoyed.

Olivia chuckled, "Well up until 3 minutes ago, I didn't know I had a neighbor. The relator told me the house was empty."

"There is an empty house…two miles down the road. If this is something you do often and I'm going to assume you do because of the fancy camera, maybe you should buy THAT house. That one is truly by it self. Two miles up a hill. Then maybe I can have peace and quiet again." Fitz spoke slowly as if she would not understand if he talked normal.

Olivia stood taller, with her head held high, "Or maybe YOU can buy that house then you can be as alone as I'm sure you already are. Good night, loser." Olivia waved to her two friends to follower her as she pushed her bike. Olivia asked the guy that was filming if they could work on the footage tonight.

Fitz wanted to call her a bitch, but the lessons and teachings of his mother simply would not allow it. As the group walked away the guy asked Olivia if she really didn't know about dickwad…Fitz was assuming he was dickwad. She threw head back looking back at him, "Of course I knew. I do what I want. Ain't no white boy telling me how to act."

"Fitzgerald Grant?" A man asked suddenly standing in front of Fitz. Where did he come from?

"Who wants to know?" Fitz asked unsure of the turn of events.

"The only reason you are not in a heap on the ground right now is because Olivia can handle herself and she gave me the signal not to break you in half. Those three people over there are my friends. I am very protective of my friends. I would suggest next time you feel a sudden surge of testosterone, you go to your shop on 4th St and work on some cars. Because," the man said walking closer in Fitz's personal space, "the next time you even think about aggressively approaching Olivia like you did tonight, you will be in a coma quicker than you can hit the ground." The man took a step back, clearing his throat. "I wont ask if you understand me because for you own sake, you better have understood me this time. It wont be a next time." The man walked away. Fitz glanced back towards Olivia.

She smirked. Bitch. She mouthed to him before tossing her middle finger over her shoulder.


End file.
